VII. THE CHRISTIAN LIFE.
290.
P. M.
Bulfinch.
Prayer and Action.
1 O, not alone on the mount of prayer
Must the Christian serve his God;
But the burden of daily life must bear,
And tread where his Saviour trod.
2 Yet with him through every changing scene
Doth the spirit of prayer abide;
When earth is lovely, and heaven serene,
That spirit his course shall guide.
3 And when the storm rages, and woe and wrath
Would an earth-born courage quell,
He knows that his God is around his path,
And ordereth all things well.
291.
L. M.
Drummond.
Faith and Works.
1 One cup of healing oil and wine,
One tear-drop shed on mercy’s shrine,
Is thrice more grateful, Lord, to Thee,
Than lifted eye or bended knee.
2 In true and genuine faith we trace
The source of every Christian grace;
Within the pious heart it plays,
A living fount of joy and praise.
3 Kind deeds of peace and love betray
Where’er the stream has found its way;
But where these spring not rich and fair,
The stream has never wandered there.
292.
7s. M.
W. Roscoe.
The Golden Rule.
1 Thus said Jesus:—“Go and do
As thou wouldst be done unto:”
Here thy perfect duty see,
All that God requires of thee.
2 Wouldst thou, when thy faults are known,
Wish that pardon should be shown?
Be forgiving, then, and do
As thou wouldst be done unto.
3 Shouldst thou helpless be and poor,
Wouldst thou not for aid implore?
Think of others, then, and be
What thou wouldst they should to thee.
4 For compassion if thou call,
Be compassionate to all;
If thou wouldst affection find,
Be affectionate and kind.
5 If thou wouldst obtain the love
Of thy gracious God above,
Then to all His children be
What thou wouldst they should to thee.
293.
C. M.
Peabody.
Who Is My Neighbor?
1 Who is thy neighbor? he whom thou
Hast power to aid or bless;
Whose aching heart or burning brow
Thy soothing hand may press.
2 Thy neighbor? ’tis the fainting poor,
Whose eye with want is dim;
O, enter thou his humble door,
With aid and peace for him.
3 Thy neighbor? he who drinks the cup
When sorrow drowns the brim;
With words of high, sustaining hope,
Go thou and comfort him.
4 Thy neighbor? ’tis the weary slave,
Fettered in mind and limb;
He hath no hope this side the grave;
Go thou and ransom him.
5 Thy neighbor? pass no mourner by;
Perhaps thou canst redeem
A breaking heart from misery;
Go, share thy lot with him.
294.
C. M.
R. C. Trench.
The Law of Love.
2 Kings, iv. 3.
1 Pour forth the oil,—pour boldly forth;
It will not fail, until
Thou failest vessels to provide
Which it may largely fill.
2 Make channels for the streams of love,
Where they may broadly run;
And love has overflowing streams,
To fill them every one.
3 But if at any time we cease
Such channels to provide,
The very founts of love for us
Will soon be parched and dried.
4 For we must share, if we would keep
That blessing from above;
Ceasing to give, we cease to have;—
Such is the law of love.
295.
C. M.
Anonymous.
Words and Deeds.
1 Beneath the thick but struggling clouds,
We talk of Christian life;
The words of Jesus on our lips,
Our hearts with man at strife.
2 Traditions, forms, and selfish aims,
Have dimmed the inner light;
Have closely veiled the spirit-world
And angels from our sight.
3 Strong souls and willing hands we need,
Our temple to repair;
Remove the gathering dust of years,
And show the model fair.
4 We slumber while the present calls,
But darkness grows with rest;
Wouldst thou see truth? To action wake,—
Do the divine behest.
296.
P. M.
Anonymous.
Heaven on Earth.
1 This world is not a fleeting show,
For man’s illusion given;
He that hath soothed a widow’s woe,
Or wiped an orphan’s tear, doth know
There’s something here of heaven.
2 And he who walks life’s thorny way
With feelings calm and even,
Whose path is lit, from day to day,
By virtue’s bright and steady ray,
Feels something here of heaven.
3 He that the Christian course hath run,
And all his foes forgiven,
Hath measured out this life’s short span
In love to God and love to man,
On earth has tasted heaven.
297.
C. H. M.
Barton.
Blessed Are Ye That Sow Beside All Waters.
1 O, be not faithless! with the morn
Cast thou abroad thy grain!
At noontide faint not thou forlorn,
At evening sow again!
Blessed are they, whate’er betide,
Who thus all waters sow beside.
2 Thou knowest not which seed shall grow,
Or which may die, or live;
In faith, and hope, and patience, sow!
The increase God shall give,
According to His gracious will,—
As best his purpose may fulfil.
3 O, could our inward eye but view,
Our hearts but feel aright,
What faith, and love, and hope, can do,
By their celestial might,
We should not say, till these be dead,
The power of miracle is fled.
298.
10s. M.
Mrs. Case.
Love On!
1 Love on! love on! but not the things that own
The fleeting beauty of a summer day;
Truth, virtue, spring from God’s eternal throne,
Nor quit the spirit when it leaves the clay:
Love them! love them!
2 Love on! love on! though death and earthly change
Bring mournful silence to a darkened home;
Still let the heart rest where no eye grows strange,
Where never falls a shadow from the tomb:
Love there! love there!
3 Love on! love on! the voice of grief and wrong
Comes from the palace and the poor man’s cot;
Bid the proud bend, and bid the weak be strong,
And life’s tired pilgrim meekly bear his lot:
Give strength! give peace!
4 Love on! love on! and though the evening still
Wear the stern clouds that veiled thy noonday sun,
With changeless trust, with calm, unwavering will,
Work! bravely work! till the last hour be done:
Love God! love Man!
299.
L. M.
Anonymous.
Not Faithless, But Believing.
1 O, still trust on, if in the heart
A holy inspiration rest,—
Though painful be the chosen part,
With doubts, and fears, and cares opprest!
O, shrink not, brothers, though Christ’s call
Demand our youth, our strength, our all!
2 No offering is made in vain;
Some human soul shall feel our love;
E’en weary hours of toil and pain
Shall help to lift our souls above:
And may our recompense be given,
In leading many souls to heaven!
3 And still trust on! with trembling hand,
’Tis ours a little seed to sow;
It springs at the divine command,—
Shall, if God will, to ripeness grow;
Beauty and fragrance it shall bring,
And breathe an everlasting spring.
300.
C. M.
Jones Very.
As Ye Sow, So Shall Ye Reap.
1 The bud will soon become a flower,
The flower become a seed;
Then seize, O youth, the present hour,—
Of that thou hast most need.
2 Do thy best always,—do it now,—
For in the present time,
As in the furrows of a plough,
Fall seeds of good or crime.
3 The sun and rain will ripen fast
Each seed that thou hast sown;
And every act and word at last
By its own fruit be known.
4 And soon the harvest of thy toil
Rejoicing thou shalt reap;
Or o’er thy wild, neglected soil
Go forth in shame to weep.
301.
P. M.
Whittier.
The Purpose of Life.
1 Hast thou, ’midst life’s empty noises,
Heard the solemn steps of Time,
And the low, mysterious voices
Of another clime?
2 Early hath life’s mighty question
Thrilled within thy heart of youth,
With a deep and strong beseeching,—
What, and where, is truth?
3 Not to ease and aimless quiet
Doth the inward answer tend;
But to works of love and duty,
As our being’s end.
4 Earnest toil and strong endeavor
Of a spirit which within
Wrestles with familiar evil
And besetting sin;
5 And without, with tireless vigor,
Steady heart, and purpose strong,
In the power of Truth assaileth
Every form of wrong.
302.
S. M.
Chr. Psalmist.
All Work Divine.
1 Teach me, my God and King,
In all things Thee to see;
And what I do in anything,
To do it as for Thee!
2 To scorn the senses’ sway,
While still to Thee I tend;
In all I do be Thou the way;
In all be Thou the end.
3 All may of Thee partake;
Nothing so small can be,
But draws, when acted for Thy sake,
Greatness and worth from Thee.
4 If done beneath Thy laws,
E’en servile labors shine;
Hallowed is toil, if this the cause;
The meanest work divine.
303.
L. M.
Sterling.
Divine Meaning in Humble Things.
1 Thou, Lord, who rear’st the mountain’s height,
And mak’st the cliffs with sunshine bright;
O, grant that we may own Thy hand
No less in every grain of sand!
2 With forests huge, of dateless time,
Thy will has hung each peak sublime;
But withered leaves beneath the tree
Have tongues that tell as loud of Thee.
3 Teach us that not a leaf can grow,
Till life from Thee within it flow;
That not a grain of dust can be,
O Fount of being! save by Thee;
4 That every human word and deed,
Each flash of feeling, will, or creed,
Hath solemn meaning from above,
Begun and ended all in love.
304.
L. M.
Keble.
Seeing God in All.
1 If on our daily course our mind
Be set, to hallow all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.
2 Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,
As more of heaven in each we see;
Some softening gleam of love and prayer
Shall dawn on every cross and care.
3 O could we learn that sacrifice,
What light would all around us rise!
How would our hearts with wisdom talk
Along life’s dullest, dreariest walk!
4 The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To bring us daily nearer God.
305.
L. M.
Doddridge.
Forms Vain Without the Spirit.
1 The uplifted eye and bended knee
Are but vain homage, Lord, to Thee:
In vain our lips Thy praise prolong,
The heart a stranger to the song.
2 Can rites, and forms, and flaming zeal,
The breaches of Thy precepts heal?
Or fasts and penance reconcile
Thy justice, and obtain Thy smile?
3 The pure, the humble, contrite mind,
Sincere, and to Thy will resigned,
To Thee a nobler offering yields
Than Sheba’s groves, or Sharon’s fields.
4 Love God and man,—this great command
Doth on eternal pillars stand;
This did Thine ancient prophets teach,
And this Thy well-beloved preach.
306.
8 & 7s. M.
Anonymous.
Life’s Work.
1 All around us, fair with flowers,
Fields of beauty sleeping lie;
All around us clarion voices
Call to duty stern and high.
2 Thankfully we will rejoice in
All the beauty God has given;
But beware it does not win us
From the work ordained of Heaven.
3 Following every voice of mercy
With a trusting, loving heart;
Let us in life’s earnest labor
Still be sure to do our part.
4 Now, to-day, and not to-morrow,
Let us work with all our might,
Lest the wretched faint and perish
In the coming stormy night.
5 Now, to-day, and not to-morrow,—
Lest, before to-morrow’s sun,
We too, mournfully departing,
Shall have left our work undone.
307.
C. M.
Anonymous.
Effort.
1 Scorn not the slightest word or deed,
Nor deem it void of power;
There’s fruit in each wind-wafted seed,
That waits its natal hour.
2 A whispered word may touch the heart,
And call it back to life;
A look of love bid sin depart,
And still unholy strife.
3 No act falls fruitless; none can tell
How vast its power may be,
Nor what results infolded dwell
Within it silently.
4 Work on, despair not; bring thy mite,
Nor care how small it be;
God is with all that serve the right,
The holy, true, and free.
308.
7s. M.
*Bulwer.
The Minister of Love.
1 O’er the mount and through the moor
Glide the Christian’s steps secure;
Day and night, no fear he knows;
Lonely, but with God, he goes:
For the coat of mail, bedight
In his spotless robe of white;
For the sinful sword, his hand
Bearing high the olive-wand.
2 Through the camp, and through the court,
Through the dark and deadly fort,
On the mission of the dove,
Speeds the minister of love;
By his word the wildest tames,
And the world to God reclaims;
War, and wrath, and famine cease,
Hushed around his path of peace.
309.
C. M.
M. B. Lamar.
The Christian Reformer.
1 Nay, tell us not of dangers dire
That lie in duty’s path;
A warrior of the cross can feel
No fear of human wrath.
2 Where’er the Prince of Darkness holds
His earthly reign abhorred,
Sword of the spirit, thee we draw,
And battle for the Lord.
3 We go! we go, to break the chains
That bind the erring mind,
And give the freedom that we feel
To all of human kind.
4 But, O, we wear no burnished steel,
And seek no gory field;
Our weapon is the word of God,
His promise is our shield.
5 And still serene and fixed in faith,
We fear no earthly harm;
We know it is our Father’s work,
We rest upon His arm.
310.
8 & 7s. M.
Longfellow.
Psalm of Life.
1 Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream;
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
2 Life is real! life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
3 Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end and way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us further than to-day.
4 Lives of true men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
5 Footprints which perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
6 Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
311.
C. M.
*Watts.
The Soldier of the Cross.
1 Am I a soldier of the cross,
And pledged to bear its shame?
And shall I fear to own Christ’s cause,
Or blush to speak his name?
2 Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas?
3 Are there no foes for me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?
Shall sloth and faintness win Thy peace,
O Thou, the martyr’s God?
4 The fearless heart Thou wilt sustain;
Increase my courage, Lord!
I’ll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy word.
5 The saints in all this glorious war
Shall conquer, though they die;
They see the triumph from afar,
And seize it with their eye.
6 When Thy illustrious day shall rise,
And all Thy armies shine
In robes of victory through the skies,
The glory shall be Thine.
312.
L. M.
Gaskell.
Press On!
1 Press on, press on! ye sons of light,
Untiring in your holy fight,
Still treading each temptation down,
And battling for a brighter crown.
2 Press on, press on! through toil and woe,
With calm resolve, to triumph go,
And make each dark and threatening ill
Yield but a higher glory still.
3 Press on, press on! still look in faith
To him who vanquished sin and death;
Then shall ye hear God’s word, “Well done!”
True to the last, press on, press on!
313.
8 & 7s. M.
*
The Conflict of Life.
1 Onward, Christian, though the region
Where thou art be drear and lone;
God hath set a guardian legion
Very near thee,—press thou on!
2 Listen, Christian, their Hosanna
Rolleth o’er thee,—“God is Love.”
Write upon thy red-cross banner,
“Upward ever,—heaven’s above.”
3 By the thorn-road, and none other,
Is the mount of vision won;
Tread it without shrinking, brother!
Jesus trod it,—press thou on!
4 By thy trustful, calm endeavor,
Guiding, cheering, like the sun,
Earth-bound hearts thou shall deliver;
O, for their sake, press thou on!
5 Be this world the wiser, stronger,
For thy life of pain and peace;
While it needs thee, O, no longer
Pray thou for thy quick release;
6 Pray thou, Christian, daily, rather,
That thou be a faithful son;
By the prayer of Jesus,—“Father,
Not my will, but Thine, be done!”
314.
7s. M.
Gaskell.
Sleep Not As Do Others.
1 Sleep not, soldier of the cross!
Foes are lurking all around;
Look not here to find repose,
This is but thy battle-ground.
2 Up! and take thy shield and sword;
Up! it is the call of Heaven;
Shrink not faithless from thy Lord,
Nobly strive as he hath striven.
3 Break through all the force of ill;
Tread the might of passion down;
Struggle onward, upward still,
To the conquering Saviour’s crown!
315.
C. M.
Doddridge.
Forgetting the Things Behind.
1 Awake, my soul! stretch every nerve,
And press with vigor on;
A heavenly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown.
2 A cloud of witnesses around
Hold thee in full survey;
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way.
3 ’Tis God’s all-animating voice
That calls thee from on high;
’Tis His own hand presents the prize
To thine aspiring eye;—
4 That prize with peerless glories bright,
Which shall new lustre boast,
When victors’ wreaths and monarchs’ gems
Shall blend in common dust.
316.
C. M.
Anonymous.
The Whole Armor of the Lord.
1 O, speed thee, Christian, on thy way!
And to thine armor cling;
With girded loins the call obey
That love and mercy bring!
2 There is a battle to be fought,
An upward race to run,
A crown of glory to be sought,
A victory to be won.
3 O, faint not, Christian! for thy sighs
Are heard before God’s throne;
The race must come before the prize,
The cross before the crown.
317.
P. M.
Staughton.
Onward and Upward.
1 Breast the wave, Christian! when it is strongest;
Watch for day, Christian! when the night’s longest;
Onward and onward still be thine endeavor;
The rest that remaineth will be forever.
2 Fight the fight, Christian! Jesus is o’er thee;
Run the race, Christian! heaven is before thee;
He who hath promised faltereth never;
The love of eternity flows on forever.
3 Lift the eye, Christian! just as it closeth;
Raise the heart, Christian! ere it reposeth;
Thee from the love of Christ nothing shall sever;
Mount when the work is done,—praise God forever!
318.
L. M.
Mrs. Barbauld.
The Christian Warfare.
1 Awake, my soul! lift up thine eyes;
See where thy foes against thee rise,
In long array, a numerous host;
Awake, my soul! or thou art lost.
2 Here giant danger threatening stands,
Mustering his pale, terrific bands;
There, pleasure’s silken banners spread,
And willing souls are captives led.
3 See where rebellious passions rage,
And fierce desires and lusts engage;
The meanest foe of all the train
Has thousands and ten thousands slain.
4 Come, then, my soul! now learn to wield
The weight of thine immortal shield;
Put on the armor from above
Of heavenly truth and heavenly love.
5 The terror and the charm repel,
And powers of earth, and powers of hell;
The Man of Calvary triumphed here;
Why should his faithful followers fear?
319.
7s. M.
Bulfinch.
Struggle.
1 There’s a strife we all must wage,
From life’s entrance to its close;
Blest the bold who dare engage!
Woe for him who seeks repose!
2 Honored they who firmly stand,
While the conflict presses round;
God’s own banner in their hand,
In his service faithful found.
3 What our foes? Each thought impure
Passions fierce, that tear the soul;
Every ill that we can cure;
Every crime we can control;
4 Every suffering which our hand
Can with soothing care assuage;
Every evil of our land;
Every error of our age.
5 On, then, to the glorious field!
He who dies his life shall save;
God himself shall be our shield,
He shall bless and crown the brave.
320.
8 & 7s. M.
Miss Bremer.
Suffering and Action.
1 Cheek grow pale, but heart be vigorous!
Body fall, but soul have peace!
Welcome, pain! thou searcher rigorous!
Slay me, but my faith increase.
2 Sin, o’er sense so softly stealing;
Doubt, that would my strength impair;
Hence at once from life and feeling!—
Now my cross I gladly bear.
3 Up, my soul! with clear sedateness
Read heaven’s law, writ bright and broad,
Up! a sacrifice to greatness,
Truth, and goodness,—up to God!
4 Up to labor! from thee shaking
Off the bonds of sloth, be brave!
Give thyself to prayer and waking;
Toil some fainting heart to save!
321.
L. M.
Roscoe.
The Pilgrim.
1 Go, suffering pilgrim of the earth,
Go, conscious of thy heavenly birth,
And, ’midst the storms that round thee rise,
Retrace thy journey to the skies.
2 What though the wild winds rage around?
Thou wilt not tremble at the sound;
What though the waters o’er thee roll?
They touch not thine immortal soul.
3 See where, arrayed on either hand,
The direful train of passions stand;
See hatred, envy, bar thy way,
And foes more subtle still than they.
4 But, robed in innocence and truth,
From all temptation guard thy youth;
And from thy vestment’s sacred bound
Shake the dread fiends that cling around.
5 Go with pure heart and steadfast eyes,
Strive on till that bright morn shall rise
That gives thee to thy blest abode,
To rest forever with thy God.
322.
L. M.
Norton.
Fellowship of His Sufferings.
1 Faint not, poor traveller, though the way
Be rough, like that thy Saviour trod;
Though cold and stormy lower the day,
This path of suffering leads to God.
2 Nay, sink not, though from every limb
Are starting drops of toil and pain;
Thou dost but share the lot of Him
With whom his followers are to reign.
3 Christian! thy friend, thy master, prayed,
While dread and anguish shook his frame,
Then met his sufferings undismayed;
Wilt thou not strive to do the same?
4 O, thinkest thou his Father’s love
Shone round him then with fainter rays
Than now, when, throned all height above,
Unceasing voices hymn his praise?
5 Go, sufferer, calmly meet the woes
Which God’s own mercy bids thee bear;
Then, rising as thy Saviour rose,
Go, his eternal victory share.
323.
L. M.
Newton.
Trust in God.
1 Be still, my heart! these anxious cares
To thee are burdens, thorns, and snares,
They cast dishonor on thy Lord,
And contradict His gracious word.
2 Brought safely by His hand thus far,
Why wilt thou now give place to fear?
How canst thou want if He provide,
Or lose thy way with such a guide?
3 Did ever trouble yet befall,
And He refuse to hear thy call?
And has He not His promise past,
That thou shalt overcome at last?
4 He who has helped me hitherto
Will help me all my journey through,
And give me daily cause to raise
New trophies to His endless praise.
324.
7s. M.
Gaskell.
Refuge in God.
1 We would leave, O God, to Thee,
Every anxious care and fear;
Thou the troubled thought canst see,
Thou canst dry the bitter tear.
2 Thou dost care for us, we know,—
Care with all a Father’s love;
Thou canst make each earthly woe
Work to higher bliss above.
3 On this faith we fain would rest;
Strengthen Thou its blessed power!
Steadfast keep it in our breast,
Through each dark and trying hour.
325.
L. M.
Morpeth.
The Use of Tears.
1 How little of ourselves we know,
Before a grief the heart has felt!
The lessons that we learn of woe
Make strong the soul, as well as melt.
2 The energies too stern for mirth,
The reach of thought, the strength of will,
’Mid cloud and tempest have their birth,
Though blight and blast their course fulfil.
3 And yet ’tis when it mourns and fears,
The laden spirit feels forgiven;
And through the mist of falling tears
We catch the clearest glimpse of heaven.
326.
L. M.
Bryant.
Blessed Are They That Mourn.
1 Deem not that they are blest alone
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
The God who loves our race has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.
2 The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that now o’erflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are earnests of serener years.
3 O, there are days of hope and rest
For every dark and troubled night!
And grief may bide, an evening guest,
But joy shall come with morning light.
4 And ye, who o’er a friend’s low bier
Now shed the bitter drops like rain,
Know that a brighter, happier sphere
Will give him to your arms again.
327.
L. M.
Norton.
My God, I Thank Thee!
1 My God, I thank Thee! may no thought
E’er deem Thy chastisements severe;
But may this heart, by sorrow taught,
Calm each wild wish, each idle fear.
2 Thy mercy bids all nature bloom;
The sun shines bright, and man is gay;
Thine equal mercy spreads the gloom
That darkens o’er his little day.
3 Full many a throb of grief and pain
Thy frail and erring child must know;
But not one prayer is breathed in vain,
Nor does one tear unheeded flow.
4 Thy various messengers employ;
Thy purposes of love fulfil;
And, ’mid the wreck of human joy,
Let kneeling faith adore Thy will.
328.
L. M.
Doddridge.
Weeping Seedtime; Joyful Harvest.
1 The darkened sky, how thick it lowers!
Troubled with storms, and big with showers,
No cheerful gleam of light appears,
But nature pours forth all her tears.
2 Yet let the sons of God revive;
He bids the soul that seeks Him live,
And from the gloomiest shade of night
Calls forth a morning of delight.
3 The seeds of ecstasy unknown
Are in these watered furrows sown;
See the green blades, how thick they rise,
And with fresh verdure bless our eyes!
4 In secret foldings they contain
Unnumbered ears of golden grain;
And heaven shall pour its beams around,
Till the ripe harvest load the ground.
5 Then shall the trembling mourner come,
And bind his sheaves, and bear them home,
The voice long broke with sighs shall sing,
Till heaven with hallelujahs ring.
329.
L. M.
N. Y. Coll.
Affliction, God’s Angel.
1 Affliction’s faded form draws nigh,
With wrinkled brow and downcast eye;
With sackcloth on her bosom spread,
And ashes scattered o’er her head.
2 But deem her not a child of earth;
From heaven she draws her sacred birth;
Beside the throne of God she stands
To execute his kind commands.
3 The messenger of love, she flies
To train us for our sphere, the skies;
And onward as we move, the way
Becomes more smooth, more bright the day.
4 Her weeds to robes of glory turn,
Her looks with kindling radiance burn;
And from her lips these accents steal,—
“God smites to bless, he wounds to heal!”
330.
10s. M.
*Mrs. Howitt.
In Affliction.
1 Thou that art strong to comfort, look on me!
I sit in darkness and behold no light;
Over my soul the waves of agony
Have gone, and left me in a rayless night.
2 A bruised and broken reed sustain! sustain!
Divinest Comforter, to Thee I fly,
To whom no soul hath ever fled in vain;
Support me with thy love, or else I die.
3 Father, what’er I had, it all was thine;
A God of mercy Thou hast ever been;
O, help me what I most loved to resign,
And if I murmur, count it not for sin.
4 My soul is strengthened now, and it shall bear
All that remains, whatever it may be;
And from the very depths of my despair
I will look up, O God, and trust in Thee!
331.
C. M.
*Barton.
At Evening There Shall Be Light.
1 Our pathway oft is wet with tears,
Our sky with clouds o’ercast,
And worldly cares and worldly fears
Go with us to the last;—
Not to the last! God’s word hath said,
Could we but read aright:
O pilgrim! lift in hope thy head,
At eve it shall be light!
2 Though earth-born shadows now may shroud
Our toilsome path a while,
God’s blessed word can part each cloud,
And bid the sunshine smile.
If we but trust in living faith,
His love and power divine,
Then, though our sun may set in death,
His light shall round us shine.
3 When tempest-clouds are dark on high,
His bow of love and peace
Shines beauteous in the vaulted sky,
Token that storms shall cease.
Then keep we on, with hope unchilled,
By faith and not by sight,
And we shall own his word fulfilled,—
“At eve it shall be light.”
332.
C. M.
Anonymous.
God’s Way is on the Deep.
1 Thy way is on the deep, O Lord!
E’en there we’ll go with Thee;
We’ll meet the tempest at Thy word,
And walk upon the sea.
2 Poor tremblers at His rougher wind,
Why do we doubt Him so?
Who gives the storms a path will find
The way our feet shall go.
3 A moment may His hand seem lost,
Drear moment of delay;—
We cry, “Lord, help the tempest-tost!”
And safe we’re borne away.
4 O happy soul, of faith divine!
Thy victory how sure!
The love that kindles joy is thine,
The patience to endure.
333.
H. M.
Mrs. Miles.
In Affliction.
1 Thou, infinite in love!
Guide this bewildered mind,
Which, like the trembling dove,
No resting-place can find
On the wild waters,—God of light,
Through the thick darkness lead me right!
2 Bid the fierce conflict cease,
And fear and anguish fly;
Let there again be peace,
As in the days gone by:
In Jesus’ name I cry to Thee,
Remembering Gethsemane.
3 Fain would earth’s true and dear
Save me in this dark hour;
And art not Thou more near?
Art Thou not love and power?
Vain is the help of man,—but Thou
Canst send deliverance even now.
4 Though through the future’s shade
Pale phantoms I descry,
Let me not shrink dismayed,
But ever feel Thee nigh;
There may be grief, and pain, and care
But, O my Father! Thou art there.
334.
C. M.
Anonymous.
Resignation.
1 In trouble and in grief, O God,
Thy smile hath cheered my way;
And joy hath budded from each thorn
That round my footsteps lay.
2 The hours of pain have yielded good
Which prosperous days refused;
As herbs, though scentless when entire,
Spread fragrance when they’re bruised.
3 The oak strikes deeper as its boughs
By furious blasts are driven;
So life’s tempestuous storms the more
Have fixed my heart in heaven.
4 All gracious Lord! whate’er my lot
In other times may be,
I’ll welcome still the heaviest grief
That brings me near to Thee.
335.
7s. M.
Sarah F. Adams.
Dews and Tears.
1 Gently fall the dews of eve,
Raising still the languid flowers;
Sweetly flow the tears that grieve
O’er a mourner’s stricken hours.
2 Blessed dews and tears that yet
Lift us nearer unto heaven!
Let us still His praise repeat,
Who in mercy all hath given.
336.
10s. M.
Anonymous.
The Strength of the Lonely.
1 Though lonely be thy path, fear not, for He
Who marks the sparrow fall is guarding thee;
And not a star shines o’er thy head by night,
But He hath known that it will reach thy sight.
2 And not a grief can darken or surprise,
Swell in thy heart, or dim with tears thine eyes,
But it is sent in mercy and in love,
To bid thy helplessness seek strength above.
337.
L. M.
Jane Roscoe.
Light in Darkness.
1 My Father, when around me spread
I see the shadows of the tomb,
When life’s bright visions droop and fade,
And darkness veils the days to come,—
2 O, in that anguished hour I turn
With a still trusting heart to Thee,
And holy thoughts arise and burn
Amid that cold, sad destiny!
3 They fill my soul with heavenly light,
While all around is pain and woe;
And strengthened by them, in Thy sight,
Father, to drink Thy cup I go.
338.
C. M.
Anonymous.
Consolation.
1 Let me not wander comfortless,
My Father, far from Thee;
But still beneath Thy guardian wing
In holy quiet be.
2 The storms of grief, the tears of woe,
Soothed by Thy love, shall cease;
And all the trembling spirit breathe
A deep, unbroken peace.
3 The power of prayer shall o’er me shed
A deep, celestial calm;
More soft than evening’s twilight dews,
My soul shall feel its balm.
4 For there Thy still, small voice shall speak
Thy great, Thy boundless love;
And tears and smiles, and grief and joy,
Shall lift my soul above.
339.
S. M.
Anonymous.
The Meaning of Sorrow.
1 We love this outward world,
Its fair sky overhead,—
Its morning’s soft, gray mist unfurled,
Its sunsets rich and red.
2 But there’s a world within
That higher glory hath;
A life the immortal soul must win,—
The life of joy and faith.
3 For this the Father’s love
Doth shade the world of sense,
The bounding play of health remove,
And dim the sparkling glance;
4 That, though the earth grows dull
And earthly pleasures few,
The spirit gain its wisdom full
To suffer and to do.
5 Holy its world within,
Unknown to sound or sight,—
The world of victory o’er sin,
Of faith, and love, and light.
340.
11 & 10s. M.
Anonymous.
The Mourner.
1 Weep thou, O mourner! but in lamentation
Let thy Redeemer still remembered be;
Strong is His arm, the God of thy salvation,
Strong is His love to cheer and comfort thee.
2 Cold though the world be, in the way before thee
Wail not in sadness o’er the darkling tomb;
God in His love still watcheth kindly o’er thee,
Light shineth still above the clouds of gloom.
3 Dimmed though thine eyes be with the tears of sorrow
Night only known beneath the sky of time,
Faith can behold the dawning of a morrow
Glowing in smiles of life and joy sublime.
4 Change, then, O mourner, grief to exultation;
Firm and confiding should thy spirit be;
Strong is His arm, the God of thy salvation,
Strong is His love to cheer and comfort thee.
341.
P. M.
Mrs. Hemans.
For Strength.
1 Father! who in the olive shade,
When the dark hour came on,
Didst, with a breath of heavenly aid,
Strengthen thy Son;
2 O, in the anguish of our night,
Send us down blest relief;
And to the chastened, let Thy might
Hallow the grief!
3 And thou, that, when the starry sky
Saw the dread strife begun,
Didst teach adoring faith to cry,
“Thy will be done!”—
4 By thy meek spirit, thou, of all
That e’er have mourned the chief,
Our Saviour! when the stroke doth fall,
Hallow our grief!
342.
11 & 4s. M.
Whittier.
The Angels of Grief.
1 With silence only as their benediction,
God’s angels come
Where, in the shadow of a great affliction,
The soul sits dumb.
2 Yet would we say, what every heart approveth,—
Our Father’s will,
Calling to Him the dear ones whom he loveth,
Is mercy still.
3 Not upon us or ours the solemn angel
Hath evil wrought;
The funeral anthem is a glad evangel;
The good die not!
4 God calls our loved ones, but we lose not wholly
What He has given;
They live on earth in thought and deed, as truly
As in His heaven.
343.
C. M.
Wilson.
Angels.
1 O, not when the death-prayer is said,
The life of life departs;
The body in the grave is laid,
Its beauty in our hearts.
2 At holy midnight, voices sweet,
Like fragrance, fill the room;
And happy ghosts, with noiseless feet,
Come brightening through the gloom.
3 We know who sends the visions bright,
From whose dear side they came;
We veil our eyes before Thy light,
We bless our Father’s name!
4 This frame, O God, this feeble breath,
Thy hand may soon destroy;
We think of Thee, and feel in death
A deep and holy joy.
5 Dim is the light of vanished years
In glory yet to come;
O idle grief, O foolish tears,
When Jesus calls us home!
344.
P. M.
Mrs. Hemans.
The Cry of the Afflicted.
1 Lowly and solemn be
Thy children’s cry to Thee,
Father divine!
A hymn of suppliant breath,
Owning that life and death
Alike are Thine.
2 O Father, in that hour
When earth all helping power
Shall disavow;
When spear, and shield, and crown,
In faintness are cast down,
Sustain us Thou!
3 By him who bowed to take
The death-cup for our sake,
The thorn, the rod;
From whom the last dismay
Was not to pass away,
Aid us, O God!
4 And now beside the grave,
We call on Thee to save,
Father divine!
Hear, hear our suppliant breath;
Keep us, in life and death,
Thine, only Thine!
345.
12 & 11s. M.
Gaskell.
Life in Death.
1 Thanks, thanks unto God! who in mercy hath spoken
The truths which have pierced through the spirit’s sad gloom;
Whose love with the light of its presence hath broken
The darkness which hung o’er the desolate tomb.
2 What now shall affright us? A Father almighty
Keeps watch round our footsteps wherever we go;
His mercy is sleepless,—His wisdom unfailing,—
He knoweth each want and regardeth each woe.
3 Where now is death’s terror? he comes as an angel
To carry the spirit away to its rest;
The gloom which he weareth is lost in the message
He brings from the Being who loveth us best.
4 May we live ever true to the hopes He hath given,
While they shed o’er our path a still holier light;
Ever making us nearer and nearer to heaven,
More pure our affections, our spirits more bright.
346.
L. M.
Norton.
O, Stay Thy Tears!
1 O, stay thy tears! for they are blest
Whose days are past, whose toil is done;
Here midnight care disturbs our rest,
Here sorrow dims the morning sun.
2 For laboring virtue’s anxious toil,
For patient sorrow’s stifled sigh,
For faith that marks the conqueror’s spoil,
Heaven grants the recompense,—to die.
3 How blest are they whose transient years
Pass like an evening meteor’s flight,
Not dark with guilt, nor dim with tears,
Whose course is short, unclouded, bright!
4 O, cheerless were our lengthened way,
But heaven’s own light dispels the gloom,
Streams downward from eternal day,
And sheds a glory round the tomb!
5 Then stay thy tears,—the blest above
Have hailed a spirit’s heavenly birth,
Sung a new song of joy and love;
Then why should anguish reign on earth?
347.
L. M.
Sarah F. Adams.
The Angel at the Tomb.
1 The mourners came, at break of day,
Unto the garden sepulchre,
With saddened hearts to weep and pray
For him, the loved one, buried there.
What radiant light dispels the gloom?
An angel sits beside the tomb.
2 The earth doth mourn her treasures lost,
All sepulchred beneath the snow,
When wintry winds and chilling frost
Have laid her summer glories low;
The spring returns, the flow’rets bloom,—
An angel sits beside the tomb.
3 Then mourn we not beloved dead,
E’en while we come to weep and pray;
The happy spirit hath but fled
To brighter realms of heavenly day;
Immortal hope dispels the gloom;—
An angel sits beside the tomb.
348.
7 & 5s. M.
Bowring.
Blessed Are the Dead.
1 Blessed, blessed are the dead
In the Lord who die;
Radiant is the path they tread
Upward to the sky.
2 All their deeds of virtue done,
Deeds of peace and love,
Now are stars of glory strewn,
Lighting them above.
349.
S. M.
Bowring.
O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?
1 Where is thy sting, O death?
Grave! where thy victory?
The clod may sleep in dust beneath,
The spirit will be free!
2 Both man and time have power
O’er suffering, dying men;
But death arrives, and in that hour
The soul is freed again.
3 Then, death, where is thy sting?
And where thy victory, grave?
O’er your dark bourn the soul will spring
To Him who loves to save.
350.
L. M.
Mrs. Barbauld.
His End is Peace.
1 How blest the righteous when he dies!
When sinks a trusting soul to rest,
How mildly beam the closing eyes,
How gently heaves the expiring breast!
2 So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o’er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.
3 A holy quiet reigns around,
A calm which life nor death destroys;
And naught disturbs that peace profound
Which his unfettered soul enjoys.
4 Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears,
Where lights and shades alternate dwell!
How bright the unchanging morn appears!
Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!
5 Life’s duty done, as sinks the clay,
Light from its load the spirit flies;
While guardian angels gently say,
“How blest the righteous when he dies!”
351.
S. M.
*Mrs. Howitt.
He is Risen.
1 O spirit, freed from earth,
Rejoice, thy work is done!
The weary world’s beneath thy feet,
Thou brighter than the sun!
2 Arise, put on the robes
That the redeemed win;
Now sorrow hath no part in thee,
Thou sanctified within!
3 Awake, and breathe the air
Of the celestial clime!
Awake to love which knows no change,
Thou who hast done with time!
4 Awake, lift up thine eyes!
See, all heaven’s host appears!
And be thou glad exceedingly,—
Thou, who hast done with tears.
5 Ascend! thou art not now
With those of mortal birth;
The living God hath touched thy lips,
Thou who hast done with earth!
352.
S. M.
Gaskell.
No More!
1 “No more, on earth no more,
Shall beam for us that eye;
Closed in a strange forgetfulness
Forever it must lie.
2 “No more, on earth no more,
Shall we behold that face;
Within the mournful halls of death
Must be its dwelling-place.
3 “No more, on earth no more,
Shall those dear lips be heard;
Cold silence there hath fixed its seal,
Breathed is their latest word.”
4 ’Tis so fond Nature mourns
Affection’s broken ties;
But Faith stands forth, she points on high,
Serenely she replies:—
5 “No more, in heaven no more,
That eye is dim with tears;
But bright, and brighter still, the scene
Before its view appears.
6 “No more, in heaven no more,
That face a shadow bears;
But looks of light, born of a bliss
Unknown to earth, it wears.
7 “No more, in heaven no more,
That voice is faint with pain;
It mingles with angelic bands,
In their enraptured strain.
8 “No more, in heaven no more,
The parting grief is known;
But love has all eternity
To look through as its own.”
353.
C. M.
Barton.
The Dead.
1 The dead are like the stars by day,
Withdrawn from mortal eye,
Yet holding unperceived their way
Through the unclouded sky.
2 By them, through holy hope and love,
We feel, in hours serene,
Connected with a world above,
Immortal and unseen.
8 For death his sacred seal hath set
On bright and bygone hours;
And they we mourn are with us yet,
Are more than ever ours;—
4 Ours, by the pledge of love and faith,
By hopes of heaven on high;
By trust, triumphant over death,
In immortality.
354.
P. M.
Anonymous.
The Departed.
1 The spirits of the loved and the departed
Are with us, and they tell us of the sky,
A rest for the bereaved and broken-hearted,
A house not made with hands, a home on high;
Holy monitions,—a mysterious breath,—
A whisper from the marble halls of death.
2 They have gone from us, and the grave is strong,
Yet in night’s silent watches they are near;
Their voices linger round us, as the song
Of the sweet bird that lingers on the ear,
When, floating upward in the flush of even,
Its form is lost from earth and swallowed up in heaven.
355.
11s. M.
Anonymous.
Are They Not All Ministering Spirits?
1 How dear is the thought, that the angels of God
May bow their bright wings to the world they once trod;
Will leave the sweet songs of the mansions above,
To breathe o’er our bosoms some message of love!
2 They come, on the wings of the morning they come,
Impatient to lead some poor wanderer home;
Some sinner to save from his darkened abode,
And lay him to rest in the arms of his God.
3 They come when we wander, they come when we pray,
In mercy to guard us wherever we stray;
A glorious cloud, their bright witness is given;
Encircling us here are these angels of heaven.
356.
C. M.
*J. H. Perkins.
Spiritual Presence.
1 It is a faith sublime and sure,
That ever round our head
Are hovering, on noiseless wing,
The spirits of the dead.
2 It is a faith sublime and sure,
When ended our career,
That it will be our ministry
To watch o’er others here;
3 To bid the mourners cease to mourn,
The trembling be forgiven,
To bear away from ills of clay
The deathless soul to heaven.
357.
C. M.
Jane Taylor.
The Unseen World.
1 There is a state unknown, unseen,
Where parted souls must be;
And but a step doth lie between
That world of souls and me.
2 I see no light, I hear no sound,
When midnight shades are spread;
Yet angels pitch their tents around,
And guard my quiet bed.
3 The things unseen, O God, reveal;
My spirit’s vision clear,
Till I shall feel, and see, and know,
That those I love are near.
4 Impart the faith that soars on high,
Beyond this earthly strife;
That holds sweet converse with the sky,
And lives eternal life.
358.
P. M.
Anonymous.
Ministering Angels.
1 Brother, the angels say,
Peace to thy heart!
We, too, O brother, have
Been as thou art,—
Hope-lifted, doubt-depressed,
Seeing in part,
Tried, troubled, tempted,
Sustained, as thou art.
2 Brother, they softly say,
Be our thoughts one;
Bend thou with us and pray,
“Thy will be done!”
Our God is thy God;
He willeth the best;
Trust Him as we trusted—
Rest as we rest!
3 Ye, too, they gently say,
Shall angels be;
Ye, too, O brothers,
From earth shall be free:
Yet in earth’s loved ones
Ye still shall have part,
Bearing God’s strength and love
To the torn heart.
4 Thus when the spirit, tried
Tempted and worn,
Finding no earthly aid,
Heavenward doth turn,—
Come these sweet angel-tones,
Falling like balm,
And on the troubled heart
Steals a deep calm.
359.
C. M.
Mrs. Miles.
Foretaste of Heaven.
1 When, on devotion’s seraph wing,
The spirit soars above,
And feels Thy presence, Father, Friend,
God of eternal love!
The joys of earth, how swift they fade
Before that living ray,
Which gives to the rapt soul a glimpse
Of pure and perfect day!
2 A gleam of Heaven’s own light, though now
Its brightness scarce appears
Through the pale shadows that are spread
Around our earthly years;
But Thine unclouded smile, O God!
Fills that all-glorious place,
Where we shall know as we are known,
And see Thee, face to face.
360.
S. M.
Briggs’ Coll.
The Angels’ Call.
1 Come to the land of peace!
From shadows come away;
Where all the sounds of weeping cease,
And storms no more have sway!
2 Fear hath no dwelling here;
But pure repose and love
Breathe through the bright, celestial air
The spirit of the dove.
3 Come to the bright and blest,
Gathered from every land;
For here thy soul shall find its rest,
Amidst the shining band.
4 In this divine abode
Change leaves no saddening trace;
Come, trusting spirit, to thy God,
Thy holy resting-place!
361.
C. M.
Briggs’ Coll.
A Vision of Heaven.
1 O, heaven is where no secret dread
May haunt us by its power;
Where from the past no gloom is shed
Upon the present hour.
2 And there the living waters flow
Along the radiant shore;
The soul, now wandering here, shall know
Its burning thirst no more.
3 The burden of the stranger’s heart,
Which here unknown we bear,
Like the night-shadow shall depart
With our first wakening there.
4 And, borne on eagle’s wings afar,
Free thought shall claim its dower,
From every sphere, from every star,
Of glory and of power.